Tag Archives: chingon

He had a 1940’s face. It reminded me of photographs I had seen about World War II, he had those hollowed out cheeks and feverish eyes that can only come from seeing death first hand. It was the face of the man who either shot someone or was about to be shot.

My visitor was wearing a purple suit, a white shirt and a pearl-gray tie. His hair was unnaturally black, combed back from the temples in two bands. He handed me an envelope sealed with wax and left. I opened it and it said: